Shadow of Death
by ForsakenFerret
Summary: Shane Mendt is slain and raised as one of the Scourge. Later reclaiming his free will as one of the Forsaken, he struggles to deal with his new unlife. Feel free to review, first fanfic and looking for constructive criticsm. COMPLETE
1. Meeting

The Undercity, home of the Forsaken. The former Scourge agents now had a will of their own, but found the world to be a cold and untrusting place. Their solution was to force their way into the world. The formerly scattered and disorganized undead became a world power, a feared member of the Horde. With their place in the world more stabilized, the Forsaken were free to pursue whatever goals they wanted. While most of the Forsaken were content to follow the wishes of their banshee queen Sylvanas, some just wanted to live their own lives.

An undead sat with his back to a wall. From his seat he could see all of the Rogue Quarter of the Undercity. Mostly other Forsaken scuttling about, doing this or that, but occasionally he would see one of the other races of the Horde running about. They disgusted him. In life he would have considered them enemies. In death, he found them even less agreeable. Only recently had he been brought to the Undercity, and he still didn't like the idea of working with anyone, much less the other members of the horde. He tossed his dagger in the air with his right hand, catching it idly. He found himself dwelling on his circumstances, his past life.

In a past life he had been human. He'd had a family, a wife and two kids. He had loved them. He began to laugh at the thought, love. Such a fragile emotion. He had loved in life, but in death what was there to love? He recalled the day the Scourge had come. He had returned from a successful hunt, it had been part of the initial outbreak. There were rumors of the walking dead, but he paid them no heed. He didn't believe in such nonsensical notions. They had all sat down to have dinner and were having a conversation. Suddenly there was a loud crash as the door to their home was bashed off of its hinges. The children screamed, and his wife looked frantically to him. A grotesque creature stood in the doorway, rotten flesh falling from its body. The hair that remained on its head was patched and the body showed obvious signs of prior injury, how it kept walking was a mystery.

"Shane? What do we do?" His wife shrieked. He remembered the name only vaguely, having long since discarded it. Shane Mendt, a human who had died that night.

"Run upstairs! Lock the door, I'll hold them off!" He responded, lunging for his hunting knives.

The creature ran towards him, ghoulish claws flailing wildly about. He stumbled backward, realizing only now that he had never even been in a fight. How had he expected to defeat the monstrosity that had invaded his home? He pushed such thoughts away, though the beast had formidable reach and deadly claws, it was slow and stupid. He easily sidestepped its maddened charge and drove the knives into its back. Any living creature would have crumpled, but the monster turned around and batted him away. Enraged, it charged toward him again. He was defenseless and fled up the stairs after his family, seeking only to get away from the horror that gave chase.

Reaching the top of the stairway, he found himself trapped. Of course, the only rooms upstairs were the bedrooms. The children's rooms were far too small to hide in, and lacked locks. The door to his and his wife's room was shut, and locked he assumed. He retreated toward the locked door. The creature stalked toward him, growling as spittle fell from its hideous maw. The creature ran toward him, and swung the vicious claws. Searing pain filled the entirety of his mind as he fell, blood pouring from his abdomen. The creature reared back to swing again, but shook as if struck. It fell back and huddled in a corner. As he lay on the floor, lifeblood pouring upon the floor, he saw a dark garbed man walk up the stairs. He carried with him a large staff topped with what appeared to be a human skull, and wore a horned skull atop his own head. Turning to Shane he looked at him with glowing eyes, and put one hand in front of him. His hand began to seep a dark aura, and he laughed.

"Your death shall serve to bolster the ranks of the Scourge!" The necromancer shouted. The last thoughts that Shane had as a human were that his family never knew what had become of him.

His hopes were in vain. As the last of his strength ebbed, he rose again as an undead slave. A new voice filled his head, one that had no similarities to his own. "Go now! Serve your King! Show them the might of the Scourge!"

The ghoul that had killed him walked beside him, and together they tore down the door that stood between them and the living on the other side. Chaos reigned, as the children fled in terror from the horrors that stood before them. He would never forget what happened next. The ghoul ran ahead and grabbed one of the children on the way. The child screamed louder than ever, but the cry was cut short as the ghoul slew him easily. Shane walked forward, fully aware of what had happened to his son. The mother began to weep and scream. She ran toward the ghoul, punching it as hard as she could. The ghoul knocked her to the side as it pursued the other child out the door. She landed heavily directly in front of Shane. She shrieked unintelligibly at him, and pounded on his chest. The new voice rang in Shane's head louder than ever. "Kill her. Bow to the will of your King!" As he killed her, the look on her face was one of utter betrayal and confusion.

Soon after Shane's family was brought into unlife as well. The four of them were separated soon after, and he never saw them again. So his life continued until the fateful day that Illidan attacked the Frozen Throne. Shane had been locked in battle with the Scarlet Crusade when suddenly the entire world flared the brightest white he'd ever seen. He lost consciousness, and when he awoke he found an entirely new battle raging around him. Undead attacked undead. Unsure of what to do, he fled toward the nearest building. Hiding in the shadows he took stock of his situation. As he tried to recall what he had been doing, the events since his resurrection washed over him in a wave of trauma. He fell to the ground and wept, or rather, thought he should. He found that though he remembered every detail that had transpired, he felt no sadness or remorse. Instead he felt only anger and disgust.

He remained hidden in the shadows of the building, and watched the battle rage. It soon became apparent to him that some of the undead were still enthralled to the Lich King, but others had regained their free will as he had. He felt no immediate need to rush to their aid, and instead turned to go the opposite direction. So had his new life begun. He lived in solitude, honing his fighting skills as well as his ability to remain undetected. Rarely did he come upon any other living souls, and always did he kill any he met. Eventually he attacked the wrong opponent.

His target was undead, like himself. A warrior by the looks of his armor and the large sword he carried, Shane jumped the undead from behind, seeking to plunge his daggers into the other undead's back. His dagger found its mark, but the damage was negligible due to the armor, and the warrior turned startlingly quickly. Shane leapt back, a dagger in each hand. The warrior and the rogue circled for a while, waiting for the other to make the first move. Noticing the warrior misstep, Shane lunged forward. He swung the dagger in his right hand in a large arc, which the warrior sidestepped. He followed with a flurry of stabs and slashes, but the warrior seemed able to block or dodge whatever was thrown at him. After Shane missed with a particularly vicious swing, the warrior used the opportunity to barrel into the recovering rogue with all his weight.

Shane fell to the ground and the warrior was on him in a second. The warrior pinned one of Shane's arms to the ground with his foot and smashed Shane's other hand with the flat of his blade, sending the dagger tumbling. The warrior leveled his blade with Shane's throat. "Undead we may be, but losing our heads would definitely put us into a simply dead state again. Now speak! Why did you assault me?" He barked.

Shane remained silent, for which he received a solid kick to the face. "I'll not ask again, SPEAK!" The warrior demanded.

Shane found that his jaw was broken, but managed to say, "No reason really."

The warrior stared at him, and he stared back in return. Suddenly the warrior began to laugh. "A good outlook for those such as us to have. Remove problems before they start." He said, moving off of Shane. "What's your name, rogue?" He asked.

Shane rehinged his jaw with practiced ease. "I don't have one, now leave me be." He responded picking up his daggers.

"Come now, you must have had a name before you were risen." The warrior insisted, keeping his weapon drawn.

"That name died with me." Shane replied firmly.

"Well, we'll have to name you then." The warrior decided.

"Leave, or I swear I'll kill you." Shane growled, pointing one of the daggers toward the warrior.

"Because that worked soooo well for you the first time…" The warrior responded.

"Why are you so insistent on talking to me?" Shane asked wearily, sheathing his daggers.

"I've travelled a long way and you're the first, and probably friendliest, company I've had." The warrior answered.

"And why don't you just resume travelling and leave me be?" Shane retorted.

"Why? Because I'm almost there, that's why. You must know where I'm going." The warrior responded, clearly confused.

"I don't particularly care." Shane sighed, turning from the warrior.

"There's a whole…You haven't?...There's an entire city of undead like us! They call themselves Forsaken, led by a banshee I'm told. The former Ranger General of Silvermoon, Sylvanas Windrunner. I'm headed there, it's only a day's journey or so." The warrior said excitedly.

Shane stopped and turned back to the warrior. "Oh? That's fascinating, now leave me be."

The warrior groaned at this. Suddenly his demeanor shifted violently. "Listen to me you coward! All of us Forsaken have experienced hardship. That damned Lich King used us as pawns, tore us from our former lives and made us slaves. We all have hatred rogue, we welcome it into our hearts, but the Dark Lady seeks to give that hatred a purpose other than misguided fury. You are a blight upon this world as you are now, a stain that I WILL erase if you don't see sense soon. Now, what do you have to say to that?"

Shane laughed aloud. "Perhaps you aren't the fool I thought you were. Fine, I'll go, if only to shut you up. I advise against letting your guard down around me though, I don't like you and I will kill you if given the chance." The rogue threatened.

"That's more like it, but it could still use work… Next time try saying, 'Gosh, you're right! I'm a stupid oaf and I'll gladly listen to reason and come with you!'. Now I'll need to call you something, and if I stick with Moron it's going to come to blows again. So what do I call you?" The warrior asked merrily.

Shane glared at the warrior with intense hatred. "I. Don't. Care." He said pointedly.

"Well, you jumped from the shadows of those trees and attempted to kill me, also you're a royal ass. Now, that's all I've got to run with… Shadows…" The warrior pondered.

"I will maim you before this is through…" Shane hissed.

"That's it! Shadowmaim! Your name is Shadowmaim, but I'll just call you Shadow because that's kind of a mouthful." The warrior said happily.

"You're an idiot. That isn't a name." Shane sighed.

"What is a name?" The warrior demanded.

"A moniker that separates us from the other faces in the crowd." Shane replied confidently.

"Wrong Stabby, it's what we ARE. A name is more than a moniker, it is a definition of us." The warrior informed him.

"So who ARE you then?" Shane asked him.

"Plateslash, or Plate, if you prefer." He answered.

"I see. Of course you'd follow your own idiotic naming formula. Well, I suppose I'll stick with the name you gave me. It's the only one I've had since being returned, hence it's the best by default." Shane surrendered.

"Good boy, now let's head to the Undercity!" Plate cheered, practically dragging the reluctant rogue along with him.


	2. Journey

The beginning of the pair's journey to the Undercity was fraught with tension. More than once did Shadow try to flee. He was caught every time by the persistent Plate. The lack of their need for sleep didn't give Shadow a lot of opportunities, but he made the most of every chance he got. After the fourth time Shadow tried to run, he turned on Plate and tried to fight again. Before Shadow could try for as much as a swipe of his dagger, Plate grabbed him by the arm and flipped him to the ground. Plate stood on Shadow's throat, and knelt down to the rogue's face.

"Damnit, this is getting pretty old. Why are you so insistent on running away? Would it really be so bad if you came with me? You might even find some other purpose for your life, other than killing wayward travelers for no reason." He sighed.

Shadow sputtered as he tried to respond, but Plate put more weight on his throat. "It's a strange thing, this unlife we have. See, we don't feel pain, or remorse, or joy, or anything really. Yet, bodily injuries will still hurt us, even if we can't feel them. For example…" Plate continued, drawing his sword. Taking the weapon in both hands, Plate swung the massive blade and lopped off Shadow's right arm. "I'll bet that didn't hurt a bit, but it sure is an inconvenience. I suppose you'd have to have someone heal that. Won't be me, that's for sure. I make things dead, not help them live. No, we'd better get you to a city. Perhaps a city that was under something? Maybe one that was full of undead like us? Sound good to you, Shadow?" He asked, removing his foot from Shadow's throat.

"I despise you. What can't you just leave me alone?" Shadow hissed, his voice as toxic as any venom.

"It's a waste. You could be helping our people, but instead you kill indiscriminately. It's stupid, and is only going to lead to your death. I'd put you to use. I'd put that bloodlust into a constructive outlet."

"Whatever, how much further until we reach this Undercity of yours?"

"You must remember the old capital of Lordearon."

"I was a citizen of Lordaeron. The scourge took the city when Arthas slew his own father. I personally killed dozens of royal guards. There's no way the Forsaken could live in those ruins, there's nowhere to hide. No defensible positions among that wreckage. Their enemies would have driven them out long ago." Shadow protested, standing.

"All true, but perhaps you'll think about the name again."

Shadow dwelled on it for a moment. "Undercity? How… The sewers?"

"Precisely!" Plateslash cheered, clapping enthusiastically.

"You have no idea how much I hate you. At any rate, if we're headed to the ruins of Lordaeron, we're almost there. We've come almost to the border of Silverpine; Lordaeron should be visible within the next few hours."

Shadow picked up his severed arm, sparing a spiteful glare toward Plate. The warrior shrugged and smiled disarmingly, a perturbing sight from a living corpse. "Sorry about that, but I hoped you'd see reason if I started doing damage. Each time you try to flee from now on, I'm taking another limb." He warned, the smile shifting suddenly into a glower.

The two of them continued on into Silverpine. The silence was made all the eerier by the plagued animals that kept just out of sight. "So, who were you before you were raised? You mentioned you were a citizen of Lordaeron." Plate eventually asked.

"That's none of your business, besides who I was died that day."

"Then you should have no problem telling me about him, if he isn't around anymore."

"Why can you never let a subject drop?" Shadow groaned exasperatedly.

"Why can you never give me a straight answer?" Plate countered.

"There's not much to tell. I was a human farmer. I lived with my family, but when the scourge came I was killed and raised."

"I see. I'm assuming your family was raised too?"

"Yes."

"You didn't die first did you?" Shadow's silence answered the question. Plateslash laughed heartily at the thought. "THAT is a sad story."

"I suppose so. I imagine I should be distraught, but…"

"All you feel is anger? It is one of the many curses inherent to our condition, as far as I can tell. I'm surprised you answered me for once."

"You were annoying me. I figured if I told you, you might leave me alone."

"My apologies, it's just I've never met another undead with free will. I've been careful to avoid settlements and such since regaining my own. Well, barring one incident."

"Then how do you know about the Undercity?" Shadow asked, suspicion coloring his voice.

Plate chuckled. "Why would I try to betray you to the Scourge? One soldier is of no value to an army who can make an ally out of every fallen enemy. No, how I heard of the Undercity is a bit of a long story."

Shadow peered ahead, sighting the tops of the tallest towers of Lordaeron, the ones left standing anyway. "We've got time."

"Oh? How strange, you suddenly found the will to converse." Plate mused.

"I haven't had a conversation since before I died. I find it…oddly calming." Shadow admitted.

"Well, we wouldn't want to waste this moment of camaraderie would we? " Plate asked, flashing rotted teeth in a friendly smile.

"Tell your tale, warrior, before I tire of this and drop it."

"Well, I should begin by telling you who I was in life. I was a human. I lived in Dalaran and had a few apprentices."

"You were a mage? Then why don't you use magic instead of that sword?" Shadow interrupted.

Plate chuckled. "In due time. At any rate, were you witness to the Scourge's invasion of Dalaran?"

"I wasn't around that area, but I heard the plans being made through my link with the Lich King."

"Indeed. Well, we mages had prepared for the invasion. The wards were our first line of defense, but we knew they wouldn't be enough. I was one of the mages stationed to protect the first of the archmages, who maintained the first of the undead wards. The sight was horrifying, dozens of undead monstrosities charging through our spell designed to destroy them. Their flesh sizzled and burned as the magic eroded their very being, but still they pressed on. It was enough to break our lines. Wizards died all around me, and I found an abomination bearing down on me. I fled, and managed to hide and feign death out of sight of the creatures. I was a coward…" Plate explained, anger burning in his glowing eyes.

"The Scourge would have sensed you were still alive." Shadow pointed out.

"I subdued my vital signs through magic. It was sufficient to stave off the mindless hordes." Plate agreed.

"So where did it go wrong? You obviously didn't live…"

"Kel'Thuzad is where it went wrong. After the Scourge completed their mission, they were leaving. I was sure not to let my spell slip, but it didn't fool him. He sensed the magic right away, and had me brought before him. He mocked me, calling me a coward for hiding while my comrades died. I lost it then. I blasted the ghouls holding me in place with arcane bolts, and with a cry of fury and sadness and everything in between I attacked Kel'Thuzad himself."

Shadow laughed loudly. "How'd that go?"

"He froze me solid, keeping me alive. He hovered over to me and chuckled. He wanted to toy with me, but Arthas told him to hurry it up. He sated himself by ripping the magic from my body. Slowly, it seemed to me an eternity, but in reality it couldn't have been more than fifteen seconds. The strain killed me, of course. Kel'Thuzad left my resurrection to one of his innumerable lackeys, chasing Arthas's coattails like the dog he is…" Plate continued, the anger permeating his voice blooming into pure, unchecked rage.

Shadow wished fervently he had both his arms attached so he could draw a dagger if Plate went berserk, maybe he could use his arm as a club? The warrior calmed down quickly. "Apologies, I haven't really thought about that since it happened. Long story short, I was freed the same way you were and ran. The first humans I ran into happened to be members of the Scarlet Crusade. Seeing me running toward them shouting for help was the only reason I wasn't killed on sight. In hindsight, I could have picked better saviors. They did rigorous testing on me, forcing me to talk, fight, eat, what have you. I overheard them talking about others like me they'd captured. They mentioned 'a whole Light forsaken city of the monsters under the ruins of Lordaeron.' I figured I'd try to get to that city, and when they brought me to test combat against crusaders the next day, I escaped. Then some buffoon jumped out of the trees and stabbed me."

"Just like that? You escaped?" Shadow asked.

"Did I say it was easy? Long. Story. Short. Remember?"

"Still, how did they forge you from mage to warrior with just a few tests?"

"I never said I wasn't good with a blade before I died. I got better once the Scourge got its grip on me and I couldn't rely on magic."

The two of them walked in silence for a moment. "So which do you like better?" Shadow asked.

"Eh? Oh, well they both have their charms. Using magic really makes you feel…alive. No pun intended."

"And being a warrior?"

"I must admit, there comes a certain pride in seeing your opponents face as you beat him to death, that could just be the undeath talking though. The armor is nice too."

"What stopped you from wearing heavy armor as a mage?"

"Let's see you try and incant ancient tongues and make intricate hand movements when you're wearing a bucket over your face and your ass is being chafed by some piece of steel or another."

"Touche." Shadow smirked. "The ruins of Lordaeron are just ahead. I hadn't realized how good of time we'd made. So, what's the plan? Just walk in the sewers or what?"

"I guess. I hadn't really thought about it."

The two of them walked toward the looming entrance to the Lordaeron sewers, not sure what to expect.


	3. Arrival

As the undead duo stared into the passage before them, a sense of unease filled the air.

"I don't like this. Is there supposed to be green sludge everywhere?" Shadow asked.

"How should I know? It's not exactly like I'm coming home here." Plate snapped.

"Easy, I'm just saying. Green sludge is NOT the best welcome. It doesn't look particularly dangerous, but it sure does reek."

"You DO remember this is the sewer system of Lordaeron, right? Do I need to explain further?"

"No, but…It still shouldn't be green…" Shadow grumbled before heading into the tunnel.

There was very little light to see by in the tunnel, faintly luminescent plants providing much of it. The pair continued forward for a few minutes, backtracking when the tunnels fell too far into disrepair to continue, before finding a passage with a lit torch. Following it proved to lead to yet another torch lit area, until the entire way was lit before long. Travelling in a bit further, Shadow suddenly called to stop.

"We knows we heard somethin'. From over here." A loud voice boomed from around the nearest corner. It seemed to be a ways off.

"You think maybe it's…intrudahs? We gots to kill intrudahs." Another voice responded in a similar baritone.

Shadow cursed under his breath. "Those sound like abominations. They didn't have the brains to break free of the Lich King's control. The Scourge must have taken the Undercity!" He whispered urgently to Plate.

"But I…" Plate stammered.

Shadow hid in a crevice along the wall, silently urging Plate to get ready for a fight as the lumbering behemoths drew close enough to cast shadows around the corner. Plate regained his composure just as the first abomination rounded the corner.

"INTRUDAH! WE KILLS!" The beast shouted, sprinting toward Plate. A second abomination trundled excitedly behind the first.

Plate raised his blade, leaping at the first abomination. He wasted no time in severing the small arm on the abomination's left side. The rotting limb fell to the ground, the cleaver clanging against the stone on the ground. Before Plate could recover from his strike, the abomination howled with rage and swatted him away with the blunt end of the much larger cleaver in its right arm. Plate hit the ground heavily, rolling a bit before lunging back to his feet.

The abomination chased its prey, laughing childishly at what it thought was the greatest game ever. The second abomination moved in to help finish the warrior off. Shadow seized his opportunity to break cover and clamber onto the creature's back. The abomination was confused for a moment, turning to find no assailant as Shadow clung to an exposed portion of its spine, his severed arm dangling from his mouth as he held on as tightly as he could. Gripping the beast with his legs, Shadow drew one of his daggers and plunged it into the back of the creature's head. The abomination cried out in fury, flailing the chain in its left hand wildly about trying to dislodge the rogue. Shadow laid flat against the abomination's back as the hook flew dangerously close to his head. Removing the dagger from where he had impaled it, he plunged it over and over into the creature's head and neck. The abomination's movements grew sluggish as Shadow destroyed the creature's brain, until it fell heavily to its side. Shadow leapt to the ground, leaving the abomination to its death throes.

Plate continued to struggle with the other abomination. Without the advantage of a surprise attack, the abomination attacked him with a single minded fury. Plate was a skilled warrior, but he was simply no match for the brute that was bearing down on him. Blocking the massive cleaver or chain was impossible, and any wound Plate managed to inflict on the creature was nothing but a flesh wound on its hulking figure. Plate glanced past the creature to see Shadow finishing off the other abomination.

"A little help would be…" Plate started, dodging the massive chain the abomination swung. "Appreciated!"

Shadow thought a moment. Now was his chance, he should just flee. He remembered the way out, he could just leave the warrior here to die. How much grief had this undead caused him? Dragging him halfway across the Eastern Kingdoms just to find…what? A city previously inhabited by others like himself? All he'd found was another Scourge hideaway. All he'd gained from this was a severed limb. He considered casting the arm away, but thought better of it. Perhaps he could interrogate any passersby to see if they could heal him. He'd have to be more careful about who he attacked from now on, wouldn't want a repeat of this whole fiasco.

"Shadow! Come on, help me out!" Plate called again, snapping Shadow from his reverie.

"That's it then, just gotta head out the way I came." Shadow thought to himself, but he couldn't bring himself to walk away just yet. This warrior had caused him no end of trouble. He wanted to see him die. He had to admit he'd miss the ability to converse with someone, but he'd get over it.

Plate realized what was happening. He couldn't believe he hadn't figured it out sooner. "You damnable coward! At least have the decency to kill me yourself! I should have cut off your head, not your-owf!" He grunted as one of the links in the abomination's chain struck him in the jaw. He was sent stumbling from the blow, and barely managed to get his blade up in time to block a quick swing of the cleaver. The impact jarred his bones and sent him sprawling. He was slower to get to his feet this time, though he felt no pain his body began to betray him.

This was it, Shadow was going to get to watch the warrior's grisly end. Then it would be a simple matter of slipping past the lumbering oaf and resuming his life prior to Plate's interference. And yet…

Plate drew up his blade as the abomination ran at him, his body was to battered to continue dodging about as he had been. It was either kill the beast now, or die trying. The abomination drew back the chain in its left hand, aiming to tear the warrior in half with the hooked end. Plate charged forward, driving the entirety of his massive blade through the monster's neck. The abomination stumbled backward, dropping the chain. The beast attempted to cry out with rage, but the sound released as a gurgle from its severed windpipe. Plate tried to get out of the way, but the abomination picked him up in its left hand. Tossing him up into the air, the abomination swung the cleaver, hitting Plate directly in the chest with the bladed edge. The only things that prevented Plate from being severed in two were the armor he wore and the fact that the abomination's cleaver was incredibly dull, better for smashing than cutting.

Plate slammed into the wall, unable to move his body so much as enough to crawl. He managed to roll his head to the side enough to see the abomination staggering towards him. Its movements were erratic, his blade must have grazed the spinal cord. Typical, he never could catch a break. The abomination finally reached him, bringing the cleaver up for a final blow when it staggered more violently than before. The abomination spun around, revealing Shadow clinging to its back, trying to get a good enough grip to plunge his dagger in for the kill. The abomination managed to get its beefy arm behind its back, grabbing the rogue and tossing him like a ragdoll. Shadow bounced with a thump, but managed to get to his feet before the abomination bounded toward him.

Shadow's strength was beginning to flag as well. He wasn't used to taking as much punishment as he had been lately, nor did he have the armor Plate did. The abomination staggered over, twitching violently. It let loose an eerie bubbly hissing, evidently trying to speak past the blade lodged in its throat. Shadow had lost his dagger when the abomination threw him, and therefore his means of attack. There was only one option. Just as the abomination tried to scoop him up, Shadow jumped at it, latching on to the sword stuck in its neck. With a vicious yank, Shadow managed to pull the blade clean through the beast's rotting neck. The abomination stumbled about with its head hanging from the remaining flesh on the other side of its neck. The weight of the massive skull proved too much for the decaying tissue, and the head fell to the side with a wet tearing noise as the abomination's body collapsed. Shadow tried to move, but the humongous corpse landed on his right leg as he tried to run away.

With a grunt, Shadow managed to pull his now broken leg out from under the corpse. Hopping to retrieve his lost dagger, Shadow sat wearily next to the prone form of Plate. The two of them rested for a while, Plate finally breaking the silence.

"I'm…I'm sorry. I thought you…were just gonna run and leave me to die."

Shadow chuckled humorlessly. "I was."

"But?"

"I couldn't. It didn't feel right."

"Touching. Why the sudden outbreak of friendship?"

"Let's not take this too far. You've put me through a lot, and when you die I want it to be by my hand. Not some Scourge monstrosity."

"So why not kill me now?"

"Do I LOOK like I'm in any condition to kill you? I can barely move."

"I can't move. At all. Except my head and mouth, which I guess is the most important thing to me. I'll be damned if I go down without annoying someone first."

"You seem awfully chipper about all this. We've both been beaten to a pulp, and we're in the middle of Scourge territory. This Undercity you were so excited about turned out to be a total failure, and to top it all off we'll both probably die here."

"Well…at least it can't get any worse?" Plate suggested.

"I'LL be the judge of that…" A foreboding voice interrupted.

The two of them looked up to see a rather annoyed new monster standing a ways away, surrounded by a cadre of armed undead. Cloven hooves tapping impatiently, its horned visage bared a look of contempt.

"Damnit, not just the Scourge… The Legion took the Undercity…" Shadow groaned.

The demon smiled at the comment. Unfolding his immense wings, the smile spread into a wide grin. "Is that what you think? Well, I'd hate to disappoint you…"


	4. Home

"Damn dreadlord… Come to finish us while we're weak? You'd be hard pressed to find a dreadlord looking for a fair fight." Plate sighed.

The demon chuckled dryly. "Even were you both to fight me at the peak of your strength, your demise would be assured. No, your deaths will come in due time, but first you'll answer my questions." He said venomously, pointing toward Shadow. Shadow moved as fast as his injured body would allow, leaping toward the dreadlord with his dagger in hand. The demon merely sighed, a sickly green aura exuding from his hand. The aura seemed to flow through the air, striking Shadow in the chest before he'd gone three steps. Shadow completely lost control of his body, and began floating above the ground before being pulled face to face with the dreadlord.

"Tell me, who sent you here?" The dreadlord hissed.

Shadow glared at the demon and said nothing. The dreadlord whipped his arm to the right, sending Shadow flying into the wall. "Speak!"

"Gonna hab to do bedda den dat. Uth undead can' theel pain." Shadow said, his jaw broken from the impact. He attempted to grin, but his jaw refused to lift.

"Oh, you think so? Well, let me show you how wrong you are…" The dreadlord said ominously, the aura dissipating from both Shadow and his hand. Shadow fell heavily to the ground and attempted to stand immediately, dagger in hand.

The dreadlord put both hands in front of himself, dark tendrils rippling from each of his claws. The tendrils snaked toward Shadow's head, slamming into the rogue with physical force and knocking him back to the ground. His arm was wracked by a spasm, flinging his dagger back toward Plate. His vision swam for a moment, before pain exploded behind his eyes. It was the first physical sensation he'd felt since he died, and was the most horrific pain he'd ever remembered experiencing. He opened his mouth in an attempt to cry out, but no sound would escape.

"As you can see, you CAN feel pain. This is but a fraction of my power." The dreadlord said with sadistic glee. "Now tell me, who sent you?" He asked, releasing his grasp on Shadow.

Shadow found himself involuntarily panting, though his lungs had no use for the air. His mind was clouded, his thoughts sluggish. The rogue flipped himself so he was lying on his stomach and tried to push himself up. He found himself lying on his severed arm, lost during the fight with the abominations. "I…I wath…" He stammered, making a show of standing while grabbing his severed arm. "I…" He stammered again, hauling himself to his feet. Shadow had his back to the dreadlord, who was smiling at the shape he'd left the rogue in. Shadow swayed forward, as if he'd lost his balance. Then he turned suddenly, swinging his severed arm at the dreadlord. The audacity of the attack caught the dreadlord off guard, and Shadow managed to strike the demon in the head with his attack. "I wath hobin' I'd lang a hit bethore you killed neh." Shadow said contemptuously.

The demon roared with indignation, the attack having done nothing to him except wound his pride. "Insolent whelp, I will devour your very soul!" He shouted, enveloping Shadow in the green aura again and slamming him into the floor first, before flinging him into the wall and holding him there. The pain returned with a vengeance. The intensity was such that nothing else registered to Shadow. He forgot who he was, where he was or why he was there. All that mattered to him was the pain. The flow of time distorted itself in his eyes. He didn't know or care if it had been seconds, hours, or years he'd been suspended and tortured. He slowly realized his consciousness was fading. He almost welcomed the numbness that was beginning to enshroud him.

"VARIMATHRAS!"

The voice pierced through the pain, and Shadow instantly dropped to the ground. He slowly looked up and saw the demon kneeling before an undead elf by the looks of it. She was wearing exquisite leather armor, and was glaring at the dreadlord. "Milady…" The demon said reverently, dipping his head.

"Explain yourself Varimathras. Why are you torturing this undead?" The elf asked coldly.

"I was looking to the security of the Undercity, of course. These two snuck in through the sewers, I figured they were sent by the Lich King to sabotage…" Varimathras began.

"Silence! Anyone with ears would have heard them stumbling around the sewer tunnels, especially once they blundered into the abominations. Scourge infiltrators wouldn't give their position away so carelessly, and you know that as well as I do." The elf interrupted, turning her gaze toward Shadow and Plate.

"I…" The dreadlord stammered.

"You have been followed since you left the royal quarter. I personally began following you once you entered the sewers."

The dreadlord kept silent this time.

"You will return to the royal quarter and await my return. You are not to leave the Undercity without my express consent, understood?"

"As you decree, Milady…" The dreadlord fairly hissed, before heading back down the tunnel. His guards followed him, all but one.

"As for you two…" The elf said, turning back to Shadow and Plate.

"Ma'am." Plate greeted her.

"Silence, you speak to the Dark Lady, Sylvanas Windrunner, herself! You will speak when spoken to." The guard called out.

"Anders, you will show them to the Undercity, and thank you for informing me of my advisor's outings." Sylvanas said to the guard, ignoring the outburst.

"Of course. Thank you Milady." The guard said with a bow. With that, the banshee queen walked back down the tunnels.

The guard walked over to Shadow and helped him to his feet. "My apologies, but Lady Sylvanas demands respect and obedience in her presence. My name is Anders, Bartholomeiu Anders."

"Shank you…" Shadow mumbled.

"Warrior, can you move?" Anders asked, looking toward Plate.

"Do you think I'd be lying here like a fool if I could?" Plate asked bitterly.

"Perhaps… Fool enough to speak out of line to the Dark Lady herself." Anders retorted. Plate scoffed, but didn't follow up on the insult. "At any rate, you two are obviously in a bad way. I'll fetch a priest to heal you; I can't carry the warrior down the rest of the sewers. Please stay here, I'll return as quickly as possible." He asked, before hurrying back down the tunnel the rest had taken.

It was a long while before either of the two undead spoke. "Well, seems like we will be getting into the Undercity after all." Plate said as enthusiastically as possible. Shadow remained silent, glaring at the warrior. "Oh come on, it could have been worse. Sure I'm completely paralyzed and you were tortured by a demon, but that's all behind us now."

"Thut ub…" Shadow growled, sounding far less threatening than he'd hoped.

Plate let out a guffaw. "What tub? I don't see any baths around here. Like we need one anyway, we're dead now remember?"

Shadow was contemplating grabbing his dagger and finishing the warrior off, but just then Anders showed up with the priest. "That's them. Please see to their healing."

"As you wish, Anders." The priest said, bowing his head.

Walking over to Shadow, the priest dipped his head. A shadow pulsed from him, enshrouding the rogue's head. Suddenly, Shadow felt his jaw crack and lift back into place, the muscle reweaving to what it had once been. The priest motioned for Shadow to place his arm back where it belonged. Shadow held his arm near the shoulder where it had been severed. The priest dipped his head again, and Shadow saw the darkness enshroud his entire body. He felt his strength renew, and his arm fixed itself back to his body. Shadow reached out with both hands and flexed his fingers. "Huh, can't say I've ever had that happen before. Reattaching a severed arm…" The thought would have struck him as unnerving if he had been alive, but as it was he simply accepted it as another part of his new life.

The priest walked over to Plate next, and repeated the procedure. Due to the more grievous state of his wounds, the priest took a bit longer to mend the warrior's body than he did with Shadow. A few sickening pops and crunches later, the warrior was on his feet. Plate extended his hand to the priest with a jovial smile on his face, but the priest eyed him with disdain. "May I take my leave now?"

"Of course, the Dark Lady thanks you for your help." Anders replied.

"Mmm…" The priest grunted before turning to leave.

"Happy sort of fella…" Plate sighed, picking up his sword.

"He was pulled from his research. I imagine he wouldn't be happy." Anders responded. Motioning for Shadow and Plate to follow him, he headed down the tunnel. "Our priests spend much of their time trying to find new ways to use the shadow arts to help the Forsaken."

"I noticed that he was using the Shadow to heal us, shouldn't he have been using the Light?" Plate asked absentmindedly.

"Only if you wanted it to burn your flesh and destroy you utterly. Have you forgotten what we are? The Light shuns such monstrosities." Anders responded sourly.

"But the Shadow is pure destruction. How is it made to heal?" Shadow asked.

"That's what our priests spend time working on, bending the Shadow to our will. Suffusing the Shadow with a small amount of the Light."

"But I thought you just said that the Light burns us!" Plate interjected, confusion clear on his face.

Anders turned to look at him as he continued walking. "I never said it didn't hurt our priests to do so. They have conditioned themselves mentally to work through the pain. Progress is being made every day to find ways to rely less on the Light and more on the Shadow, but the fundamentals will never change. The Shadow destroys, and the Light heals."

The three of them remained silent for a while. It wasn't long until they started to hear the bustle of the Undercity ahead. After a few more turns they wound up at the top of a staircase, overlooking a large circular path bisected by a river of green goo. A large number of undead scurried in both directions along the paths on either side of the river in the middle.

A huge smile broke out on Plate's face. "I finally made it…" Shadow couldn't help but smile himself. He had to admit that this was both the most infuriating journey he'd ever been on, as well as the most interesting.

"You're no children, so I'm not going to hold your hand. To our left is the war quarter, where our warriors train. Beyond that is the magic quarter, where our mages practice their arcane arts. To our right is the apothecarium, as well as Our Lady's throne room. You aren't going to be exploring either without good reason. Past that is the rogue quarter. I'm sure you can guess what's there. If you head more inward, you'll find the commerce center of the Undercity. Auctioneers, the inn, weapon and armor merchants, etcetera. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to." Anders explained, and with a small bow headed off toward the war quarter.

Plate started to follow. "I'm heading to the war quarter. I want to spar with a few of these Forsaken. Where do you want to meet up?" He called back.

Shadow scoffed. "If I want to find you again, I will…" With that he headed off toward the right. Plate shrugged and hurried toward the sound of barking undead and clashing steel.

Shadow walked forward, no particular destination in mind. He looked around, noting that it wasn't only undead that occupied the Undercity. He would occasionally spot orcs and blood elves busying themselves with various activities. He found himself in the rogue quarter he presumed, merchants selling poisons and other such things lined the walls. He found himself wanting solitude, and this seemed to be the quietest place he'd thus far encountered. He looked up and found he was standing underneath a balcony. He didn't see any doors or stairs that led to it, so he clambered up the wall. The wall was slick, and difficult to get a grip upon, but he enjoyed the challenge. When he finally managed to get a hold on the floor of the balcony, he pulled himself up. He sat down against the wall, facing the rogue quarter. He looked out upon what was happening below and sighed. Drawing one of his daggers, he tossed it idly. He allowed himself a moment to reflect on everything that had happened recently. How he'd come from common cutthroat to a member of the Forsaken.

Unease welled within him. He wasn't sure what to do. He longed for the simplicity he'd once enjoyed, and yet he enjoyed the company of others like himself. He realized now that he'd been alone and hopeless so long, and now he'd finally found comrades. They shared his anger, his hatred of the Lich King, his envy of those whose lives hadn't been taken from them. Perhaps he could get along here, find a cause to lend his blade to. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, thinking, but when he opened his eyes he spied Plate wandering around the rogue quarter. Waiting until Plate was below him; he leapt down, knocking the warrior to the ground and putting his blade to the back of Plate's neck. "You're dead, warrior."

Shadow stood up, helping Plate to his feet. "I guess you finally got the better of me. I got a bit careless in the wake of my excitement. I find myself surprised though, it doesn't seem like you to joke. Are you okay?" Plate commented.

Shadow shrugged. "A moment of weakness, if you will."

Plate grinned. "I put a few of those 'warriors' in their place, though a few of them certainly shut me down. I think I'm going to like it here."

Shadow allowed himself a smile. "Me too." He said, and allowed himself to laugh, really laugh, for the first time in a very long time.


End file.
